


Roll Initiative

by say_lene



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tabletop Gaming, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Gen, Liam has a magic sword, Role-Playing Game, Yes I know, no I don't know what's wrong with me, the crew play D&D
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-17 02:55:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10584960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/say_lene/pseuds/say_lene
Summary: The crew of the Tempest relax with a game of D&D.





	1. Oaksill-on-Silverlee

**Sara:** Man, I'm so _excited_. Who brought the beer?

 **Liam** : Got you covered, Pathfinder.

_Sara leans almost half way across the ops table as she fumbles for a drink. Vetra rolls her eyes and pushes one of the bottles towards her. Gil arrives a moment later and sits down beside Vetra._

**Gil:** Alright, guys, I'm here. You ready to be reduced to a fine red mist?

 **Kallo:** This isn't a player-versus-player game, Gil.

 **Gil:** Then what's the point?

 **Suvi:** He's only teasing you, Kallo. I think we're all here - wait, where's Peebee?

_Peebee appears from the lower deck, clutching a huge bowl of popcorn. She plonks it in the centre of the ops table, almost knocking over half the beer._

**Peebee:** Here we go, people. Say hello to Conviction, tiefling warlock and badass motherfucker.

 **Jaal:** Hello, Conviction. I don't believe that fully translated. What exactly is a tiefling?

 **Cora:** A tiefling is a human with devilish features, Jaal. Usually they have horns or tails inherited from a devilish or demonic ancestor -

 **SAM:** Excuse the interruption, Lieutenant Harper. I would like to remind you that the game tonight will be based upon Fifth Edition rules and descriptions.

 **Cora:** Wait. We're not playing Pathfinder?

 **Sara:** (sarcastically) Why would we do _that_?

 **Kallo:** (gleefully) So to answer your question, Jaal, tieflings are a race of humanoids that bear devilish features as the result of a pact made between their ancestors and the Hells.

 **Jaal:** Hells? Plural?

 **Sara:** (impatiently) You'll learn as you go. Any last-minute galley runs? Going once, going twice - gone. Let's go, SAM.

 **SAM:** Drack appears to have forgotten his character sheet, Pathfinder.

 **Lexi:** (fondly) I'll go get it. You can start without me.

_Liam and Drack both protest, but Lexi jumps out of her chair and hurries towards the crew quarters anyway. SAM continues speaking as if nothing happened._

**SAM:** Our campaign begins in the small human town of Oaksill-on-Silverlee, which sits comfortably in a lush valley near the heart of the country of Aurinland. It is a sleepy summer afternoon - or it _would_ be, if not for the midsummer festival. Oaksill's packed-earth streets are thronged with revellers, both villager and visitor alike. The once quiet air hums with activity as vendors hawk their wares, performers tumble and trill, and drunken festival-goers chatter, whoop and holler.

 **Suvi:** Wow, SAM. This is very atmospheric.

 **Vetra:** Don't interrupt the DM!

 **Suvi:** (whispering) Sorry!

 **SAM:** We will, of course, begin at level one. As is the case in most human towns, the village tavern is the epicentre of activity. Although you did not all arrive together, you have each found yourselves inside the Tipsy Watchman. I would ask that you now introduce your characters. Please include your name, race, a brief physical description of your character, and an outline of how you would wish to spend your time in the inn. We will begin with you, Pathfinder.

 **Sara:** (Sitting up straighter in her chair) My name is Seretha Kelor. I am a slender, dark-haired human woman. I keep to the shadowy corners of the inn, but my flawless skin and high cheekbones are hard to miss.

 **Drack:** (snorting into his drink) Really, Ryder?

 **Sara:** (ignoring him) I have a glass of red wine in my hand, but I'm not drinking. I spend my time pickpocketing careless drunks.

 **SAM:** Make a sleight of hand check.

 **Sara:** Already!?

 **SAM:** Even the Pathfinder must play by the rules.

_Sara sighs theatrically and rolls a d20._

**Sara:** Twenty-four!

 **Liam:** Seriously?

 **Sara:** I have a plus five modifier.

 **SAM:** Seretha lingers in the corner, swirling her wineglass absently as she surveys the milling crowds inside the Tipsy Watchman. You select your targets carefully, and your pickpocketing earns you two silver pieces.

 **Sara:** That's all?

 **Liam:** You're pickpocketing peasants, Sara. What did you expect?

 **SAM:** It's your turn, Mr. Kosta.

 **Liam:** (eagerly) I'm this grizzled, bearded, _buff_ dwarf. Maybe - how old are you, Sara?

 **Sara:** _Seretha_ is in her early twenties, but she has a rather ageless face.

 **Liam:** Right. So I'm maybe twenty-five, but I look way older. Hard-living, that kind of thing. Massive big sword in a sheathe across my back. I'm sitting by the bar, just putting 'em away.

 **Cora:** And your name?

 **Liam:** Oh, right. Tydus Gragnar. Your turn, Cora.

 **Cora:** My name is Valina. I'm a young half elf with curly brown hair and big green eyes. I dress very austerely, and it's clear from my attire than I'm some sort of monk. I'm sitting near the door, nursing a beer but not really drinking it.

 **Gil:** What, are you looking for something?

 **Cora:** (shaking her head) I'm _watching_ , but I'm not looking. I'm not comfortable in a tavern.

_Lexi returns and hands Drack his character sheet before returning to her seat beside Gil._

**Drack:** Thanks, doc.

 **SAM:** With that, we come to Ms. Nyx's turn.

 **Vetra:** (caught by surprise) Uhh, right. Yes. Um, I'm a human ranger. How old would a middle-aged human be?

 **Peebee:** Let's just stick with 'old'.

 **Vetra:** Right. My name is Thora Olsen. My appearance is very… normal - brown hair, brown eyes, tanned skin. I'm sitting beside Tydus, hoping he'll buy me a drink.

 **Liam:** (laughing) Wow, Vetra -

 **Vetra:** (irritably) Not like that!

 **SAM:** Would you like to buy Thora a drink, Tydus?

 **Liam:** Sure, why not. I mark this off my inventory, yeah? How much?

 **SAM:** Four copper pieces.

 **Vetra:** (sheepishly) Thanks.

 **Drack:** Are you lot done?

 **SAM:** Please proceed with your introduction.

 **Drack:** Good. My name is Theodore Roosevelt.

_Liam chokes on his beer. Sara erupts into laughter, clapping Liam on the back as he splutters. The others start laughing too, except for Jaal. He just looks confused._

**Jaal:** Who is Theodore Roosevelt?

 **Drack:** Teddy Roosevelt is a half-orc bard! I'm standing on one of the tables, singing to the crowd. They're loving it, too. I've got a voice like a krogan angel.

 **SAM:** Please make a performance check.

 **Drack:** …Thirteen.

 **SAM:** Theodore Roosevelt belts out a festive tune from atop one of the Tipsy Watchmen's rickety wooden tables. The patrons clap and cheer, and they scatter a total of ten copper pieces at your feet.

 **Peebee:** Whoa, not fair!

 **SAM:** It's your turn, Ms. B'Sayle.

 **Peebee:** (eagerly) Great! _I_ am Conviction, a young tiefling woman of rare and - might I say - _incomparable_ beauty. I keep my features obscured with an all-weather cloak when I'm in backwards little villages like this. The hood hides elegant horns that curl down from my temples to my ears, and the cloak hides my sexy tail.

 **Suvi:** Wow.

 **Peebee:** Anyway, I have golden eyes and skin the colour of the sand on Eos. I'm scanning the crowd, keeping watch for any sign of the person I'm looking for.

 **SAM:** That will require a perception roll.

 **Peebee:** (grimacing) That's a nine.

 **SAM:** You never falter in you perusal of the milling crowd, but long days on the road have left you weary. Even if your quarry is present, you're not sure that you would notice.

 **Peebee:** Pfft. Like I'm gonna find them on the first map, anyway.

 **Jaal:** (hesitantly) Is it my turn?

 **Liam:** Sure is. What've you got?

 **Jaal:** I am known as Andon Tanglefoot. I am a halfling, which I am told is a very small human. I have a wiry, blonde… what is this word, Lexi?

 **Lexi:** Top-knot. It's a human hairstyle.

 **Jaal:** Ahh! I have a wiry, blonde _top-knot_. My clothes are simple, but well cared for. However, my feet are bare. I am searching for my lost love, who vanished from our home more than a year ago.

 **Kallo:** (despairingly) You just gave away your character motivation!

 **Jaal:** Is that not what I am meant to do? What good is a story if it is not told?

 **Vetra:** (chuckling) Hear, hear.

 **SAM:** How would you like to spend your time in the tavern?

 **Jaal:** Oh, I expect I will ask people if they have seen my missing lover.

_Drack laughs raucously. Sara covers her face with her hands, and Peebee doubles over in hysterics._

**SAM:** Mr. Brodie, I believe it is now your turn.

 **Gil:** It's about time. Keiron Stormcaller, half-elf sorcerer. Handsome bastard. Black hair, blue eyes. Built like a dancer. I'm making a deception roll, SAM.

 **Lexi:** What, on _us_? Is that even allowed?

 **SAM:** Perhaps I will allow PVP deception rolls later in the game, Mr. Brodie. For introductions, I will require you to be truthful - although I will allow omissions.

 **Gil:** It's not against _you guys_. It's against the bartender. I want to convince him I'm a nobleman.

 **SAM:** You may certainly try.

 **Gil** : And…that's thirteen.

 **SAM:** That is insufficient. If you wish, I will permit you to attempt to augment your roll with a personal performance.

 **Gil:** (hesitantly) SAM…are you saying you'll give me a bonus if I _role play?_

 **SAM:** Yes.

_Liam bursts into laughter and clutches at the table._

**Liam:** Oh my god, this is brilliant.

 **Gil:** (bristling) Here - barkeep! Your attention, please.

 **Sara:** (covering her mouth) Oh. My. God.

 **Gil:** Do you have anything from the… uh, Thessian vineyards? My companion and I -

_Gil gestures vaguely in Kallo's direction. Kallo straightens up and smiles brightly._

**Gil:** My companion and I have had our fill of taproom swill.

 **Lexi:** (dryly) That _has_ to be a fail.

 **SAM:** Indeed. The bartender gives Keiron a scathing look, before firmly turning his back. He ignores further attempts to engage him in conversation.

 **Gil:** Great.

 **Kallo:** (excitedly) And _I_ am Harlum Gravelbottom, an adorable little gnome with very fine red hair. I follow Keiron around, keeping in his shadow.

 **Lexi:** I follow them around, as well, glaring at anyone who looks at my employers for too long. My name is Ruta, by the way. I'm a tall, muscled half-orc. My clothes make it quite clear that I am a barbarian.

_Everyone looks expectantly at Suvi. She just beams at SAM's projection above the table._

**SAM:** You spend around thirty minutes in the Tipsy Watchman, going about your business as you have described. The afternoon is pleasant, but uneventful. Life in Oaksill-on-Silverlee is very often uneventful. But something soon changes.

Valina is closest to the door. Lieutenant Harper, please make a perception check.

 **Cora:** Twenty-two.

 **Gil:** Boom!

 **SAM:** The small half-elven woman near the door suddenly tenses. Valina, you hear something outside that sounds very much like thunder, interspersed with sudden and scattered _zaps_ that seem like they could be lightning. Then, of course, you remember that lightning makes no discernible sound.

 **Cora:** Can I hear anything else?

 **SAM:** Dimly - the faint sound of screaming. What will you do?

 **Cora:** I'll go and look outside.

 **Peebee:** Tell somebody, stupid!

 **Cora:** (smiling serenely) I don't know any of you. I'd rather look for myself.

 **SAM:** When you step outside, you immediately see that the sky has gone dark. The festival-goers, obviously noticing the same sounds that you did, have stopped to stare up at the gathering clouds. The sky is torn by brief flashes of light, and it appears to be these flashes that are producing the sounds you heard earlier. Your eyes are drawn to a disturbance in the crowd ahead. There's a woman fighting her way through the crowd: an elf, very much like your mother, with glossy dark hair that plasters to her forehead as she struggles towards the inn.

 **Suvi:** That's me!

 **Cora:** I'll go to her aid.

 **SAM:** Make a strength check.

 **Cora:** …Eleven.

 **SAM:** You just barely manage to pull the elf out of the milling crowd. You yourself are of very slight build, so you find it very difficult. The sounds coming from the sky are growing louder, and the woman you assisted glances upwards with an expression of terror.

 **Suvi:** That's right. I _am_ terrified.

 **Liam:** (in agitation) Can I run outside too?

 **Sara:** You don't know that anything's even happened.

 **SAM:** Make a perception check, Tydus.

 **Liam:** Sixteen.

 **SAM:** You can hear something unusual occurring outside the inn. The sword on your back whispers in your ear: _something is not right._

 **Kallo:** What?

 **Jaal:** Liam, do you have a magic sword?

 **Liam** : I'm running outside!

 **Vetra:** I'm going to follow him.

 **Peebee:** Yeah, because Thora's got the hots for the dwarf.

 **Vetra:** (irritably) No, I don't!

 **SAM:** Tydus and Thora both abandon their drinks and rush for the door. Would anyone else like to investigate?

 **Sara:** I would.

 **Jaal:** And me.

 **SAM:** Valina, Tydus, Thora, Seretha and Andon are now standing in the town square outside the inn. Ms. Anwar, how will you react?

 **Suvi:** I'll turn to Valina - because she saved me from getting crushed - and grab her by the shoulders. I'll say 'we need to run!'

 **Cora:** Why? Why do we need to run?

 **Liam:** I'm going to draw my sword.

 **SAM:** The quiet hiss of metal leaving the leather sheathe is still lingering in the air when - _BOOM!_

_Everyone clutches at the table, shocked by SAM's inspired use of sound effects. Sara gazes up at SAM's projection in awe, clearly uncertain whether she should be proud or worried._

**SAM:** One of the streaks of light overhead hits the ground, this time, and a huge creature erupts from the shattered point of impact. It is a gigantic, hulking beast with leathery wings and long, glinting tusks. It gives an unearthly roar, and the sound can be heard for miles around.

 **Gil:** So we would all know something's up now, right?

 **SAM:** Yes, although it is up to you whether you will leave the inn.

 **Gil:** I will.

 **Kallo:** (shrugging) I'll follow.

 **Lexi:** Me too.

_Peebee and Drack both shrug and nod their agreement._

**SAM:** The townspeople scream when the monster appears, scattering like mice whose nest has been exposed. The creature roars, brandishing a huge, flaming war-axe. It swings the weapon indiscriminately, and an unlucky festivalgoer has his head severed from his shoulders.

 **Peebee:** Eww!

 **SAM:** All around you, additional lighting strikes are meeting the ground. More monsters appear; a handful, at first, then dozens, each more terrifying than the last. Some are tall and willowy, with milky skin and raven wings. Some are soft and corpulent, and move across the earth like gigantic pink slugs with razor-sharp teeth. Still more are short, stocky creatures, with eyes like melted cinnabar.

 **Liam:** What's cinnabar?

 **Suvi:** A mercury-rich mineral. It's red, which I think is more to the point.

 **SAM:** The creatures are attacking the townsfolk. Some are crushed like insects in the middle of the roadway. Some are split in half by wicked swords or flaming axes. A few unlucky souls don't even meet their end at the hands of one of the creatures; they lose their footing and are trampled to death by the fleeing crowd.

 **Sara:** Holy _shit_ , SAM.

 **SAM:** What will you do?

_Everyone starts shouting at once. Drack's voice is the easiest to hear._

**Drack:** I turn the fuck around and _run_!

_Everyone erupts in laughter. Vetra has to wipe away tears of mirth._

**Vetra:** Have you ever run away from anything, old man?

 **Drack:** Me, personally? Once or twice. But Teddy Roosevelt doesn't plan on fighting any demons.

 **Kallo:** Based on SAM's description, I'd say they're probably devils.

 **Gil:** I'm going to run away, too. I'm going to follow Teddy, because a half-orc would make a decent dent in the crowd, right?

 **Kallo:** I guess I'm going too, then. Lexi?

 **Lexi:** Ruta goes with them, but she holds her warhammer at the ready.

 **Liam:** I'm going to attack the closest devil.

 **Cora:** Are you serious? You're going to get yourself killed on the first map.

 **Liam** : I'm a paladin. Can't let townsfolk get murdered while I run away.

 **SAM:** The closest devil has the form of a tall and beautiful woman. She is incredibly striking, with glowing red eyes and lustrous feathered wings. Tydus, please roll initiative.

 **Suvi:** Wait! I want to try to convince everybody to run.

 **SAM:** This will involve a persuasion roll. I will award a bonus to your roll if you provide a convincing argument.

_Suvi straightens in her chair and brushes her hair back off her face. She adopts an expression of razor-edged fear._

**Suvi:** Please! You must listen to me - and I grab Tydus' arm. My name is Cerene Velar. I am a cleric of Chauntea. These _things_ \- these devils - they seek an artefact I carry. With it, they will wreak destruction across the realm. Please, you must help me escape!

_Suvi rolls a d20, closing her eyes until the die has come to rest._

**Suvi:** Thirteen.

 **SAM:** Please roll a wisdom check, Tydus.

 **Liam:** Just straight wisdom? That's…. a four.

 **Sara:** Oh my god. It's just like real life.

 **SAM:** In this case, I will take that as a total of thirteen plus four, or seventeen.

_An unknown sound effect plays. It sounds a lot like tumbling dice._

**Gil:** Was that your random number generator, SAM?

 **SAM:** Yes. I rolled a six.

 **Liam:** So…I don't attack the devil?

 **SAM:** That is correct. The sword whispers in your ear: _you must help the cleric escape._

 **Liam:** All right then. I turn to the others and -

 _Liam brandishes an imaginary sword like a general addressing an army._ _Sara scoots backwards in alarm, and Peebee gives a little cheer._

 **Liam:** If you want to live, follow me! Run - and don't stop running! And with that, I run off with Cerene on my arm.

 **Vetra:** Spirits.

 **SAM:** Which way will you go?

 **Liam:** Uh, did the half-orcs make a path through the crowd?

 **SAM:** Of sorts.

 **Liam:** Then I'll follow them.

 **Vetra:** I'll go too. Cora - I mean, Valina?

 **Cora:** Yeah, me too.

 **SAM:** At this stage, Seretha, Conviction and Andon are the only player characters remaining in the town square.

 **Peebee:** Well, I know a thing or two about devils, so I'm going to nope on out of there. I sure as hell want to live.

 **Sara:** I'm going to watch what the halfling does. Jaal?

 **Jaal:** I…hmm. Halflings are very _small_ creatures, yes? I will very likely be crushed if I attempt to follow everyone else.

 **SAM:** That is one possible outcome.

 **Jaal:** I am going to turn to Seretha, quietly marvelling at her almost otherworldly beauty.

 **Sara:** Damn right.

 **Jaal:** And I am going to ask for… what is it called? Ah, yes. A _piggy-back_ ride.

_Sara almost spits her beer across the table. She buries her face in her arm, shoulders shaking with mirth. The others laugh as well, and Gil reaches around Suvi to clap Jaal on the back._

**SAM:** How will you respond, Pathfinder?

 **Sara:** Yes! Oh my god, yes!

 **SAM:** A lightfoot halfling typically weighs between 13.5 - 16 kilograms. Please make an athletics check.

 **Sara:** Shit. My athletics isn't great.

_Sara rolls another d20._

**Sara:** Oh, shit! Seventeen!

 **Lexi:** What's your modifier?

 **Sara:** Zero!

 **SAM:** Seretha kneels down so that the tiny halfling can clamber onto her back. He's heavier than you expected, Seretha, but you somehow manage it. Do you follow the others?

 **Sara:** I do.

 **SAM:** You all make your way through the chaos, stumbling over bodies and swerving around obstructions both human and monstrous. The sound is diabolical. The electrical screeches seem to have stopped, which you take to mean that perhaps the creatures have all been delivered to their destination. Theodore Roosevelt, because you are at the front of the group, the going is hardest for you. Please make a strength check.

 **Drack:** Oh, I get it. To check if I can shove people aside and shit.

 **SAM:** Would your character be willing to do so?

 **Drack:** Of course he would. …That's an eighteen.

 **SAM:** Mr. Roosevelt carves a path through the crowd like a warm knife through butter, but passage is still difficult for the smaller members of your hastily-formed coalition. Ruta, you notice that your employer, Harlum, is beginning to stumble. What will you do?

 **Lexi:** I'll pick him up by the back of his robes and drag him along with me.

 **Kallo:** (laughing) Hey! I'm going to kick and protest.

 **Gil:** Shut up, Harlum. She's probably saving your life.

 **Peebee:** While this is happening, I'm going to see what I can suss out about these devils.

 **SAM:** Please roll an arcana check.

_Peebee rolls a d20 and swears loudly._

**Peebee:** Shit! Eleven.

 **SAM:** The monsters look familiar to you, but it's hard to focus amidst all the chaos. You'll need time to think about this.

 **Peebee:** Fine. I keep running.

 **SAM:** Finally, you appear to escape the densest parts of the crowd. You are leaving the township of Oaksill-on-Silverlee, delving into the surrounding forests. You stumble onward for a time, until the sounds of the slaughter begin to fade.

 **Vetra:** Hey, forests are my favoured terrain!

 **Kallo:** Brilliant!

 **SAM:** The screaming has faded to almost nothing. What would you like to do?

 **Liam:** I'll stop. I want to ask Cerene what the hell is happening.

 **Suvi:** Wait, everybody! Everyone, please, let's stop. I need to speak with all of you.

 **Cora:** I want to keep running.

 **Suvi:** No! I grab her by the arm and say _please_ , you must listen to me.

 **Cora:** (uncertainly) I'll wait, then. But speak quickly.

 **Gil:** Yeah! What the hell is going on?

 **Suvi:** I need your help. Those monsters that you saw - they have been chasing me for days. I can't remember the last time I slept. Please, I need to get to Saberwind.

 **Vetra:** I want to insight check her.

 **SAM:** Please roll, then.

 **Vetra:** Ugh. Six.

 **SAM:** She _does_ look very tired.

 **Drack:** Why should we help you? I don't want to get eaten by devils.

 **Peebee:** They won't eat a half-orc. You guys are too gamey.

 **Suvi:** They - my high cleric - Ugh. I take a deep breath, and start again.

I am delivering an artefact of great importance to the Arcane University in Saberwind. I cannot tell you the details, but it is a matter of life or death - not just for us, but for all mortals on the Prime Material Plane.

 **Liam:** Well, I want to help her.

 **Cora:** I want to insight check her, too.

 **SAM:** I must inform you that from this point onwards, I will allow only one insight check per conversation. Please keep this in mind. For now, please roll, Lieutenant Harper.

_Cora rolls a d20. Her face lights up immediately._

**Cora:** Twenty-three!

 **SAM:** She is telling the truth, although she is clearly not disclosing every detail. Her eyes are almost rolling in their sockets, and she clutches at the wheat sheaf symbol around her neck in an effort to still her shaking hands.

 **Gil:** Show us this artefact.

 **Suvi:** I can't. Please, you _must_ believe me.

 **Vetra:** Why in all the hells did you enter a populated area? If what you're saying is true, you just killed all those people…

 **Suvi:** Um, that's a good point. SAM, why _did_ I go into the town?

 **SAM:** You ran out of food, Ms. Anwar. Additionally, your body was beginning to deteriorate from lack of sleep. You were hoping the monsters might give civilization a wider berth than they gave you in the wilderness.

 **Lexi:** Yikes. Can I take a look at her?

 **SAM:** I must remind you that Ruta the half-orc is not a doctor, Dr. T'Perro. You may make a medicine check if you wish, however.

 **Lexi:** What about survival? I can look to see if -

 **SAM:** Medicine.

 **Lexi:** Fine.

_Lexi rolls a d20._

**Lexi:** I rolled a twenty!

 **Sara:** (shocked) _Lexi_ got our first natural twenty!?

 **SAM:** Cerene is in very bad shape. The broken veins in her eyes indicate she may be having blood pressure problems. Her skin is clammy and pale, and you can smell a hint of acetone on her breath. She is clearly dehydrated, and seems to be approaching a state of ketoacidosis.

 **Lexi:** And would Ruta know what any of those words mean?

 **SAM:** Probably not. But she does recognize that Cerene badly needs food and rest.

 **Lexi:** Great. I'll turn to the others and tell them that the elf's almost dead on her feet.

 **Kallo:** I think we should help her. She may be more willing to confide in us later - and I think we can be certain that we don't want the devils to get what they want.

 **Peebee:** Not me. I'm not going anywhere until she shows me whatever it is she's carrying.

 **Sara:** I want to attempt to persuade Conviction to let it go.

 **SAM:** Do you wish to try for a role play bonus, Pathfinder?

 **Sara:** Sure!

_Sara stands up and, leaning forward, plants both palms on the ops table. She stares at Peebee intently, tilting her head forward so that her hair tumbles artfully over her shoulders. Peebee stifles a giggle._

**Sara:** Have you ever visited the hells, tiefling?

 **Peebee:** No.

 **Sara:** Well, I have. I have seen what devils are capable of. I have seen the destruction they will wreak should they ever get the chance.

 **SAM:** You will need to make a deception roll, Pathfinder.

 **Sara:** But I don't have proficiency in -

 **SAM:** Then you should not have lied.

 **Sara:** (grumbling) Thirteen.

 **SAM:** Conviction will make an opposing insight roll.

 **Peebee:** Hah! Four.

_Peebee sighs heavily._

**Peebee:** Fine. I'll help you, cleric.

 **Jaal:** Am I still on Seretha's back?

 **SAM:** Yes.

 **Jaal:** I'm going to play with her hair.

 **Liam:** (laughing) Oh my god.

 **SAM:** While you are talking, an ear-splitting _crack_ shatters the silence - and a group of monsters appear in the clearing. One of them is a small, red-skinned creature with leathery wings and a scorpion tail. It is accompanied by three others; vaguely human-shaped blobs of bilious purple flesh, topped by a gaping, razor-toothed maw. Ruta, you are the closest to them.

 **Gil:** That sounds…disgusting.

 **Cora:** Oh my god.

 **Liam:** I step in front of Cerene and lunge for the closest one!

 **SAM:** I would like you all to roll initiative.


	2. Too Easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to make actual rolls and character sheets, just for realism's sake. And, MY GOD, it takes a long time to write this way.
> 
> Good practice, though!

_At SAM's instruction, everyone makes an initiative roll. While they are doing so, a three dimension projection of the encounter area appears on the ops table. The player characters are outlined in blue light, while their enemies are outlined in red. Jaal's mouth hangs open as he examines the arrangement._

**Peebee:** Want us to work out our order for you, SAM?

**SAM:** That is unnecessary. My processing speeds and information storage capabilities far outstrip those of an ordinary organic dungeon master. Please call out your initiatives in a clockwise order around the table. We will begin with the Pathfinder.

**Sara:** Seven.

**Liam:** Hah! Fifteen.

**Cora:** Also seven.

**Sara:** SAM, if I die and Liam doesn't, you're fired.

**Vetra:** (impatiently) Eleven.

**Drack:** Fifteen.

**Liam:** High five, old man!

**Peebee:** Eleven.

**Jaal:** Thirteen! Am I doing this right?

**Gil:** I'm thirteen as well.

**Kallo:** (as if in pain) Three.

**Lexi:** Twelve.

**Suvi:** Nine.

**SAM:** No one rolled higher than fifteen? That is surprising.

**Vetra:** Go to hell, SAM.

**SAM:** I do not have feelings that can be hurt, Ms. Nyx, but I would advise you against abusing the dungeon master.

_Vetra shrugs sheepishly._

**Vetra:** Sorry.

**SAM:** Ruta. The imp looks at you with murder in its beady eyes. While you and your companions are still staring at the creature in shock, it leaps at you in a flurry of sharp claws and leathery wings. It attacks you with its stinger, rolling a fifteen to hit.

**Ruta:** I get to add my constitution modifier to my AC when I don't have armour on, right?

**SAM:** That is correct. Are you wearing armour?

**Ruta:** As if _I_ would wear armour. The imp misses.

**SAM:** Pure luck sees you stumble out of the way as the imp's stinger lashes past you, a glob of clear liquid leaving the tip to strike a tree trunk behind you. The liquid hisses ominously on impact with the tree, and the bark begins to fizzle away.

**Suvi:** Yikes. That doesn't sound good.

**SAM:** Tydus, you are next in the initiative order. Though your final roll was identical to Mr. Roosevelt's, you had already indicated your intention to attack the devils.

**Liam:** I said I'd go for the closest devil, right? Which one is that?

**SAM:** The closest to you personally is one of the lemures.

_One of the monsters on the map projection flashes for a moment. Liam grins as he points at it._

**Liam:** Then I'll swing my greatsword at that one. Twenty-four to hit.

**Gil:** Nice one! That's a crit, isn't it?

**SAM:** Mr. Kosta's roll must have been a natural nineteen, so that is correct. Please roll for damage.

**Liam:** Four, plus… Oh god, what do I double?

**Kallo:** Just roll 4d6 instead of 2d6, then add your modifier.

**Liam:** Uh, that's, uhh… twenty-one.

**SAM:** The lemure, unprepared for the ferocity of your attack, turns just in time for you to bury your greatsword in what passes for its forehead. It collapses in upon itself like one of Sara's attempts at baking.

_The table erupts in laughter. Sara stares at SAM's projection in shock_.

**Sara:** I'm not sure I'm on board with your new sense of humour, SAM.

**SAM:** It is now Theodore Roosevelt's turn.

**Drack:** Teddy doesn't want to touch any of the gooey things, and he's not happy about going near that poison, either. I'm going to use my Vicious Mockery cantrip on the imp.

**Cora:** (chuckling) Are you going to tell it its skin's too thin?

**Drack:** Maybe.

**SAM:** Imps have advantage on saving throws against spells and other magical effects. As a result, it rolled a wisdom saving throw total of seventeen. What is your spell DC?

**Drack:** (with disappointment) Twelve.

**SAM:** The imp resists the effects of your cantrip.

**Drack:** Can I move away from the devils? I have a speed of 30.

**SAM:** How far do you wish to move?

**Drack:** The full thirty metres, kid.

**Kallo:** Distances in DnD are quoted in feet, Drack.

**Drack:** What? Like, human feet? I won't get far at all!

_Suvi and Gil both giggle to themselves. Lexi sighs fondly._

**SAM:** Fortunately, you were not within melee range of any of the devils, and therefore do not suffer an attack of opportunity. It is now Keiron's turn.

**Gil:** (excitedly) Alright! I have a feeling these things probably have a lot of elemental resistances, but I'm going to cast Frostbite on the imp anyway. My spell DC is thirteen.

**SAM:** Fortunately for you, the imp rolled very poorly on his saving throw. Please roll 1d6 damage.

**Gil:** Ooh! I rolled a six!

**SAM:** Everyone in the clearing watches as Keiron raises his hands, weaving strange arcane symbols in the air. He yells an incantation that few of you understand, and a strange, creeping frost appears to overtake the winged imp. The creature cries out in distress, but appears to suffer less than the spellcasters in the group might have expected.

**Gil:** But it does still have disadvantage on its next attack roll?

**SAM:** That is correct.

**Gil:** Yeah!

**Jaal:** It is my turn now, correct? I must confess to some trepidation. Will you tell me if I make a mistake, SAM?

**SAM:** Of course. I must remind you, however, that you are still on Seretha's back.

**Jaal:** Oh. Is that a problem?

**SAM:** That depends. What action would you like to take?

**Jaal:** I would like to cast thorn whip on the imp.

**Sara:** (alarmed) So you're going to pull the imp right up into my face!?

**Jaal:** You _are_ a rogue, are you not? This will be to your advantage.

**Sara:** Jaal -

**SAM:** You will need to use your movement to climb down from Seretha's back before casting your spell. Please roll a d20 and add your spell attack.

_With obvious caution, Jaal picks up a d20 and rolls it across the table. He breaks into a grin when it comes to rest._

**Jaal:** (triumphantly) Twenty-three!

**Peebee:** (hanging on Jaal's shoulder) Ooh! Now you roll a d6 for damage.

**Jaal:** Three.

**SAM:** Clambering down off the human's back, Andon the halfling throws his hands in the air, a string of whispered words flowing from his lips. At his command, a long, tapering vine whips out from the tree behind him and seizes the imp around the neck. It shrieks - or attempts to, at any rate - and is dragged helplessly backwards, only to be deposited at Andon's feet as the vine recoils. The thorny noose leaves bleeding gouges in the creature's neck.

It is now Ruta's turn.

**Lexi:** Well, seeing as the imp is no longer flapping around in my face, I'm going to attack the closest lemure with my greataxe. I rolled an eleven.

**SAM:** That strike will land. Please make your damage roll.

**Lexi:** Fifteen.

**Liam:** Holy shit!

**SAM:** Ruta, filled with adrenaline after being attacked by the imp, swings her huge greataxe in a lethal arc that severs the lemure's head from its shoulders.

_Lexi flexes her bicep, nodding as if to say **come get some.**_

**Vetra:** Are you doing an impression of Liam?

**Liam:** Hey!

**SAM:** Now, we come to Thora.

**Vetra:** I'm still near the lemures, right? I'm going to stab the last one with my shortsword. I rolled a sixteen to hit and… a seven for damage.

**SAM:** The nondescript ranger, striking with sudden swiftness, thrusts her sword into the monstrosity's flabby torso. The creature gives a roar of anger, tinged with pain, and Thora's sword comes away covered in sticky pink goo.

**Peebee:** …eeww. My turn now, right? I'm going to cast Eldritch Blast on the lemure she stabbed.

_Peebee rolls a d20 and squeals in delight._

**Peebee:** Twenty-four! So if I roll damage that's going to be… aww man!

**Suvi:** What's the matter?

**Peebee:** I rolled a two!

**SAM:** Conviction speaks a word of power, snapping her fingers in the air, and a beam of crackling dark energy streaks from her hand towards the lemure. It shrieks in pain as the beam makes impact. When the energy dissipates, the creature appears to be smoking slightly.

**Sara:** For the love of all that's holy, SAM, tell me it's my turn now!

**SAM:** It is now the only remaining lemure's turn. It does not appear to even notice the demise of its fellows, but its soulless eyes are inexorably drawn towards the priestess it has been seeking. Seeing Tydus in the way, it strikes at the dwarf with its meaty fist. It rolls a nineteen.

**Liam:** (gruffly) That hits.

**SAM:** Tydus attempts to block the attack, but is overexposed in the wake of his earlier lunge. The lemure's claws catch him in the side. His chainmail takes the brunt of it, but Tydus suffers four bludgeoning damage.

**Liam:** (quietly) Ow.

**Sam:** Ms. Anwar, it is your turn.

**Suvi:** Well, then. My character has certainly seen enough now to have a feeling the imp is resistant against magic, so I'm going to go for the lemure as well. I'm going to cast Sacred Flame. You need to make a dexterity save against my twelve spell DC, SAM.

**SAM:** Thank you for the reminder, Ms. Anwar. Lemure's have very low dexterity, so the result was eleven.

**Suvi:** Yes! Oh, but I only rolled three damage.

**SAM:** As the elven priestess squares her shoulders resolutely, she raises one hand in the air, fingers spread like the rays of a midday sun. She murmurs a holy word, and a pillar of radiance descends from the sky. The lemure, caught directly in the centre of the beam, shrieks in pain. It writhes, scraps of its flesh beginning to disintegrate. They fall to the ground like dust motes as the light begins to fade.

**Cora:** (in frustration) But it's not dead yet?

**SAM:** It is not dead yet. However, it is your turn now, Lieutenant Harper.

**Cora:** I want to punch the lemure in the face. Twice.

**Vetra:** (whispering to Drack) This _is_ just like real life!

_Cora rolls two d20 dice._

**Cora:** Seven and twenty-four.

**SAM:** Your first punch almost goes wide, but your instincts tell you to adjust the arc of your unarmed strike at the very last moment. Both hits impact the lemure with a pair of wet - but solid - thumps. Please roll damage.

**Cora:** Seven and six - so thirteen.

**SAM:** The lemure opens its mouth to scream in pain - but your first punch knocks its teeth out. The second blow is certainly overkill, and you leap out of the way as the monster explodes in a shower of pink goo.

**Lexi:** SAM, that is…rather graphic.

**SAM:** I try.

**Sara:** Is it my turn yet, SAM?!

**SAM:** Yes, Pathfinder. What action would you like to take?

**Sara:** I'm going to stab that imp with my dagger. Andon is within five feet of it, right? So I get sneak attack. And I'm going to stab it with my second dagger as a bonus action as well.

_Sara rolls a handful of dice._

**Sara:** Seven for the first attack roll. Fourteen for the second.

**SAM:** Your first attack misses - the imp, fluttering about madly as it shakes off the effects of Andon's Thorn Whip, flutters to the side at precisely the wrong moment. Your second strike, however, does land. Please roll damage, including 1d6 sneak attack damage.

**Sara:** That's seven total.

**SAM:** Your dagger plunges into the delicate place right where the imp's wings meet its torso. It gives a blood-curdling scream, a fountain of blood erupting from the wound as you tear your dagger free. It manages to flap its faltering wings once, then twice, turning drunken circles in mid-air, before finally falling to the earth. It twitches once, then stills.

**Kallo:** You mean I didn't get a _turn_?

**Gil:** Well you _did_ roll a natural one.

**SAM:** Silence - or what passes for silence on the fringes of a massacre - falls over you all. You stare at the devil corpses on the ground, exchanging nervous glances.

**Kallo:** They clearly weren't that tough. Not that I would know.

**Gil:** That was too easy, guys. Something else is going to happen.

**Vetra:** We _really_ need to get out of here.

**Liam:** Speak for yourself. That lemure packed a punch. Four hit points is a _lot_ at level one!

**Cora:** I want to flip my hair and tell him I can out-punch anything.

**Jaal:** I agree with… what is your name again, Vetra?

**Vetra:** Thora.

**Gil:** Just call her 'the tall one'.

_Sara, Liam and Peebee all snicker, but the joke appears to sail right over Jaal's head._

**Jaal:** I agree with the tall one.

**Sara:** Can I make a perception check, SAM? I want to see if I can hear anything else approaching.

**SAM:** Proceed, Pathfinder.

**Sara:** (grimacing) Six.

**SAM:** You can still hear screaming, but you cannot determine any discernible changes.

**Vetra:** These forests are my stomping grounds, right? Do I know anywhere I can lead us that might be safe?

**SAM:** You do know several places, yes.

**Suvi:** It won't do any good. The devils - they can sense the artefact. They'll just keep coming, the same way they have been.

**Peebee:** Is there anything we can do to - I don't know - cloak ourselves, or something? Stop them from knowing where we are?

**Kallo:** I don't think so. Not with our first level spells, anyway.

**Cora:** Either way, we need to get moving. They'll certainly find us if we stand around here all night.

**Sara:** Tall One -

_Peebee and Liam burst into laughter again. Jaal looks a little confused._

**Sara:** \- if you know your way around the forest, can you lead us out of here?

**Vetra:** I think so. SAM?

**SAM:** You certainly can, even without a skill check. You are incapable of becoming lost on your favoured terrain, except by magical means.

**Vetra:** Great! But we should probably do something about the priestess. She doesn't look so good.

**Drack:** Got another natural twenty in you, doc?

**Jaal:** (thoughtfully) I presume she is not in need of a healing spell. She is a cleric, after all. Does anyone have any food or water that we can give her?

**Liam:** I've got some water.

**Vetra:** And I've got some Blast-Ohs.

**Kallo:** (in exasperation) You can't have Blast-Ohs! They don't exist in this universe!

**Gil:** Whatever. She's got sugary treats.

**Peebee:** She's got sugary -

**Vetra:** Don't say it, Peebee.

**SAM:** Thora, please make a perception check.

**Vetra:** Twenty total.

**SAM:** You hear heavy footfalls approaching from the direction of the village. They are moving quickly - and far too heavy to be human.

**Liam:** We need to go! I'm going to grab Cerene's hand again. Ranger, which way do we go?

_Vetra points in a random direction._

**Vetra:** That way!

**Liam:** We run off.

**SAM:** Should I assume that you all follow?

_Everyone murmurs their agreement._

**SAM:** Cerene, I will need you to make a dexterity check.

**Suvi:** (despairingly) Eight.

**SAM:** Thora leads you all through the forest. As far as the rest of you know, you might be headed right off a cliff - but the mousy-haired ranger seems to know precisely where she is going. Brush and other plant material clings to your legs as you run. The priestess, exhausted from her ordeal and hampered by the robes of her order, becomes caught on a fallen branch and falls.

**Liam:** I pull her back up.

**Vetra:** I'll stop, too - which means everybody else has to.

**SAM:** Tydus the paladin helps Cerene to her feet, but your pursuers have gained on you. Make a perception check, Thora.

**Vetra:** That's…also an eight.

**SAM:** With a mighty roar, a huge, hulking creature emerges from the trees behind you. It is at least seven feet tall, towering over even the half-orcs among you.

**Liam:** (laughing) my head snaps back and I have to stumble backward just to look at it.

**SAM:** Its body is covered in long, sharp spines. You can see them slice through foliage and sever small branches as it rocks back onto its haunches. Each of its hands has three wickedly glinting claws.

**Peebee:** Arcana check! I want to know what it is!

_Beside her, Drack snorts into his drink._

**Peebee:** It's a _fucking_ five! Why can't I roll anything decent?

**SAM:** You recognize this creature, Conviction. It is a Barbed Devil.

**Jaal:** Presumably because of the spines, yes?

**SAM:** Roll initiative.

**Author's Note:**

> Sure, I *absolutely* know where this is going. The D&D adventures of the Tempest crew are to be continued...
> 
> Come hang out with me on tumblr for the inevitable little snippets I post before Part 2. 
> 
> http://notebookalpha.tumblr.com/


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